


Not Yet Lost All Our Graces

by shihadchick



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Light BDSM, M/M, Marking, Overstimulation, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-10-27 08:15:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10805271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shihadchick/pseuds/shihadchick
Summary: Brandon usually has good ideas.





	Not Yet Lost All Our Graces

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alotofthingsdifferent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alotofthingsdifferent/gifts).



> Appreciation to dip_cheese and folignos for encouragement and beta work on this. Title from Lorde's Team.

"I want to try something new," Brandon says, voice softer even than his hands. He's got his head down as he watches himself unbuttoning Nick's shirt, before moving down to unbuckle his belt, unzipping his slacks and pushing them down, too.

"Mmm?" Nick says, waiting his turn until he's got his arms out of the shirt, till his hands are free to start undressing Brandon in turn. "What did you want to do?"

Nick's open to suggestion. Especially from Brandon, who is yet to ask Nick for anything he doesn't want to give him, really. Nick's easy for him, always has been, even when they weren't exactly easy with each other. But when they do manage to talk, things usually work out just fine. Brandon usually has good ideas.

"You're—not that I don't love hearing you, but I want to see if you can stay quiet, this time." Brandon looks up, a little uncertain, like this is something he's not sure he should be asking for, but if it's something Nick can give him then he doesn't see the harm in it. Not in trying, anyhow.

"You wanna gag me?" he asks carefully. They haven't done that before, but Nick's tried it in the past. It's not going to make his top ten list or anything, but it wasn't terrible. He's not sure what Brandon would use, though; it's not like either of them was wearing a tie to start with, and he doesn't think Brandon packed rope for this trip. Not when he was going to be traveling with the rest of his team, two nights in New York before they head back to Ohio. They're not exactly a secret, but Brandon's private enough that Nick knows he wouldn't risk bringing anything he might have to explain.

Brandon's hands are still, just resting loosely at Nick's hips, like he's still waiting for something. Maybe to figure this all out, Nick's not sure. But he can be patient.

"Not exactly," Brandon says slowly, and he runs one hand up Nick's side, slow and steady, fingertips dragging against hair and skin as he does. "I want, uh. I want to see how long you can be quiet. Just by yourself."

"Oh," Nick says, a little stupidly. _Oh_ , he thinks, and blushes hot all over at the thought. Just—not being _allowed_ to make a sound, having to control himself. Not being _able_ to talk was one thing, and yeah, it got him off too, being able to pretend like he was helpless, like he couldn't do anything different. But this is all on him, this is Nick doing something for Brandon instead of Brandon doing something to him, and that's—

It's definitely hot.

"Yeah?" Brandon says, and he's looking Nick in the eyes now, cautiously pleased with whatever he can see in Nick's face.

"Yeah," Nick echoes, and he can feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end at the heated look Brandon gives him as he nods. Feels goosebumps rise all along his arms, a tiny super-heated shiver running along his spine. And not that either of them exactly needed the confirmation, but if Brandon looks down or touches, well. It's going to be immediately obvious just _how_ into this Nick is, his nipples gone tight, dick hard, breath coming just a fraction too fast.

He wonders, for a split second, if maybe they should have held off on this idea until later. It's been weeks since they've seen each other in person, months if they're going to be technical about it. And there's only so much jerking off can do; Nick's been desperate for this ever since they got the schedule and could figure out exactly when they'd be seeing each other.

It occurs to him that trying to keep quiet might be a little more difficult than he's assuming.

But Brandon asked, and Nick answered, so he's going to stand by that, as long as he can.

"Bed?" Brandon asks, and gives Nick a gentle shove, palm pressed firm into the center of his chest, against his sternum.

Nick opens his mouth to reply, then reconsiders and just lets Brandon urge him back, giving him just enough space to scramble on top of the mattress. He has about a second to catch his breath and then Brandon climbs on top of him, too, still wearing the underwear Nick had gotten too distracted to peel him out of, knees either side of Nick's hips as he settles in place.

Time seems to slow down then, the seconds going soft and stretching out as Brandon touches him all over, so familiar and so affectionate. Nick sprawls out on the bed and sinks into it, lets the sensations almost overwhelm him, filling him up until it feels like his skin is too tight, like it's only a matter of will that still contains him. He can feel the quiet sounds he'd usually be making crowding up behind his teeth, on the very tip of his tongue, and he clenches his jaw, lips pressed tight together to keep them inside. Brandon leans back and trails his hand loosely from Nick's ankle all the way up his thigh, detouring over his knee, darting momentarily towards his groin but pulling back before he can touch anywhere that Nick is so incredibly desperate for. Nick has to admire his balance and his flexibility; the way that shifting his weight like that had brought him so tantalizingly close, his ass an inch away from Nick's cock as he moved, almost close enough for Nick to rub off on him, and yet. 

And yet.

Instead of arching up to try and chase Brandon's warmth Nick just concentrates on his breathing, inhales deeply, tries to slow his heart down from the way it's racing, pulse pounding in his ears, tripping along double-time with how turned on he is, how _hot_ this is. He can feel himself sweating, too, itching and aching for more.

Brandon must be able to see what he's doing to Nick—why would he have asked for this, if he couldn't, Nick's more sensible mind says, the thoughts coming together slowly from somewhere far behind his current lust-crazed need—but he doesn't change his pace or his actions, just keeps his hands moving oh so slowly.

He'd framed this exactly the right way, too, Nick thinks. He inhales sharply as Brandon circles his nipple with his thumbnail, just hard enough to graze his skin as he drags it back and forth, leaving a mark that goes white and then pink, standing out against his skin. Getting Nick's competitive side engaged, making it a competition _with himself_ , there's no way Nick's going to back down until he absolutely has to. He'll push himself as much as he can, as much as Brandon will let him, and the fact he has no idea just how long that's going to take makes him a little dizzy.

It might, in other circumstances, make him nervous too, but he trusts Brandon, enough to offer this up, and enough to know that Brandon's going to make it worth his time. Worth his while.

He inhales again, and swallows the complaint he wants to make next as Brandon sits up, climbs off him and resettles on the blankets beside him. He feels light-headed for a moment, head spinning, before realizing he's holding his breath and making himself breathe out again. Brandon's hands just keep moving, ceaseless and hungry, tracing over every inch of his skin as Nick tries not to make a sound, sees how long he can manage that.

It's not like it's a thing, it's not a big deal, but Brandon asked him, voice soft and curious, and Nick kinda wants to see what happens too. Wants to test himself and see what he can take before it's too much and he has to beg for more.

He can be stubborn when he needs to be, but Brandon knows him so well, all his sensitive spots and what'll get to him.

He thinks that Brandon was taking it slow at first, not sure how seriously Nick was taking it, but the longer it takes the more absorbing it is. Nick finds the slow passage of Brandon's hands and, eventually, his mouth over his skin almost hypnotic, making him squirm and shudder and sweat, control and self-consciousness stripped away a fraction of an inch at a time until he's straining up under Brandon's weight, teeth digging into his lip with the effort of not making a sound.

"Fuck, Nick, you're so—" Brandon says, breaking the silence at last, and then he gives up on words and just leans in to kiss him instead, swallowing all the sounds Nick's been dying to make.

Nick's so hypersensitive to every touch, anticipating and aching for it, so responsive to everything Brandon does. And Brandon knows him so well but just like every time they've been apart for longer than a couple of days it's a chance to relearn him as well, see the effects of time and another season on different teams, giving him time to find the new marks and scars on his skin, see where he's changed and what's still the same.

Brandon moves again, the mattress creaking under them, but this time it's to nudge at Nick's knee, silently asking him to spread his legs, splayed open so he's exposed, entirely vulnerable. Brandon looks his fill for a few seconds and then knee-walks over his calf and knee to settle between his legs, getting comfortable, shuffling back until he's exactly where he needs to be. Nick's lost track of everything that isn't just the two of them in that bed, his focus narrowed down entirely to every tiny patch of skin where they're touching, everywhere he's aching for Brandon to revisit, the ceaseless desperate need for more. It feels like what he needs is just out of reach, right there and waiting, perfect satiation on offer as soon as he's allowed to open his mouth and ask for it.

Somehow, with a wrenching effort that's possible only because of how much he wants to do this for Brandon, Nick stays silent.

Tells himself just a little longer, just a tiny fraction of a second more.

Brandon mouths up the inside of Nick's thighs, breathes hot over his dick before running his fingertips over it, up & down. "Hi there," Brandon says softly, and he's not looking at Nick's face anymore, just at his dick.

Somehow, that's what makes Nick break his silence completely; the unguarded expression of completely familiar tenderness; lust and affection all tangled up together.

"Pretty sure that's still exactly how you remember it," Nick jokes, his voice croaky with how long he's been silent, how much he's been trying to hold back. It almost echoes in the quiet room, speech sudden and unexpected after how long it had just been their breathing and bitten off moans, the soft quiet noises of appreciation that Brandon hadn't even tried to stifle.

"Figured I should check thoroughly all the same," Brandon murmurs, and he gives Nick a dirty grin before doing just that.

"Oh," Nick says weakly.

He had just been joking, thought Brandon had been too, that he was going to draw this out more first, but Brandon really is being incredibly thorough as he nuzzles against the crease of Nick's thigh, letting his fingers trail over every part of Nick's groin. He brushes through the dark hair around his dick and back over his balls, ghosting tiny touches of fingernails in parallel lines across the sensitive skin behind them before his thumb presses and drags at his rim, breaching just the tiniest fraction to push inside. Nick hisses in a breath and his legs fall open further, back arching as he tries to rock down into that touch. It's been so long since they've done this, so long since Nick's had anything more than his own fingers or maybe a toy. Brandon likes to watch him get off, and he's talked Nick through a lot of phone sex over the years, but there's something all the more dizzying about when it's Brandon actually touching him, instead of Brandon telling him to imagine he's touching him. Brandon giving him new memories instead of invoking older ones.

It's ridiculously hot, is what it is, and it's even better when Nick squirms and Brandon doesn't move, lets Nick's cock bump up against his cheek, his stubble scraping rough and intense against the side of his dick. Nick sucks in a deep breath, makes a sound he's desperately grateful hadn't escaped earlier, and his stomach flips and his balls tighten as Brandon's grin widens, clearly noticing exactly the effect he's having on Nick.

"Just like that, huh?" Brandon asks, and he very deliberately rubs his cheek up against Nick's cock, letting him smear the pre-come starting to drip from the head across the side of his face, into the corner of his mouth.

Brandon licks his lips, swallows obviously, grins some more. Nick swallows an embarrassingly high pitched moan and barely, barely doesn't grab for his own dick. God, he needs to get off.

"Saader," he says desperately, " _please_."

Brandon licks over the inside of Nick's thigh, drags his teeth over the skin, before working his way back in again, his breath warm against Nick's skin. He buries his face between Nick's legs, nose rubbing into the dark hair of Nick's groin, lips and tongue teasing just around the base of his dick, not quite giving him what he so desperately wants.

Nick doesn't exactly manscape or anything like that; he kind of half-heartedly trims when he thinks of it, but it's never been a major thing for him, not something he worried about. The beard is a good enough hint about what he looks like undressed these days for almost anyone who's looking, anyway. Not that he meets a whole lot of people who are looking, since he and Brandon have been more or less exclusive for years now. Definitely for longer than Nick's had the beard, that's for sure. And Brandon's completely undaunted by Nick's body hair, runs his hands possessively, affectionately over his chest and arms the same way he's done ever since the first time they hooked up.

Then again, Brandon's not exactly the least hairy guy in the room even when the other guy is Nick, so. He's never been any kind of hypocrite, that's for sure.

"Missed you so much," Brandon says, which is nice, but also doing precisely zip for Nick's ability to get off already, so he opens his mouth to complain, or beg, or _something_.

That sound turns right into a shocked, bitten off moan when Brandon follows up by sitting up just enough to get his mouth onto Nick and goes right down, sucking hard as his cheeks hollow out and the head of his dick bumps up against the roof of his mouth and then the back of his throat. Nick wants to somehow both thrust in further and to yank Brandon off to kiss him again already in about equal portions; instead he just groans and lets his fingers tangle into Brandon's hair, winding the too-long curls around his fingers. He loves it when Brandon's hair gets like this, the wild curls at odds with his quiet, serious demeanor, and the way he gets off on having it pulled—

Well, Nick's always understood why he only really lets it get that long near the end of the season. He can't say he'd ever have been able to have much in the way of self-control about not pulling it otherwise, not even when they were in the dog days of the season together and needed to focus and rest and recover.

Brandon's got a lot of rules, for himself and for how he behaves around other people. It had taken Nick a while to learn that, and even longer to come to terms with that, but mostly, mostly he knows where he stands these days. It's taken some trial and error but what they have now works, works so well, for both of them. And Nick can't regret that.

"I'm so close," Nick murmurs, "I'm gonna come, B, please."

He's giving Brandon time to back off if he wants to, time to tell him if that's not what Brandon wants right then. They don't push each other too hard often, but sometimes Brandon likes to make Nick wait and wait and wait, until he's hard and aching and desperate, eyes watering, desperate tears trickling down his face, salty against his lips as he opens his mouth to pant and beg.

Apparently that's not what Brandon wants today though; he doesn't back off, or even give Nick any of the wordless signals they've agreed on over the years, he just keeps on sucking, tongue curling around the head of Nick's cock. Nick lasts about three seconds longer than that, pulls hard on Brandon's hair as his back arches and he spills down Brandon's throat, shaking in the immediate throes of it, and shaking harder as Brandon doesn't _stop_ , as Brandon keeps on sucking, keeps working over his dick even as it's exquisitely over-sensitive, making him twitch and shudder, losing the ability to do more than sink into the sensation, overwhelmed and totally caught up in the moment.

Brandon finally, finally pulls off, presses kisses along the line of Nick's pelvic bone, up to his hip, mouth open and breathing warm and wet on his skin. He's not careful as he does, lets his cheek and chin drag over Nick's skin again too, making him shudder and curse, dick twitching in one last, futile effort to come again. He and Brandon haven't tried overstimulation a lot—if nothing else, they usually don't have time—but this is intense, is whiting out Nick's brain, resetting him back to a level where all he can think is "yes" and "fuck, more."

"Still okay?" Brandon asks, his voice low, his hand gentle where he's touching Nick's thigh, palm smoothing over his quads, grounding him.

"Uh," Nick says, shaky, wanting desperately to say 'yes' but equally determined to know that he's going to be able to mean it first. Brandon needs him to say what he wants, to be honest about what he needs, and Nick's not going to betray that trust. His body definitely wants more, and his conscious mind does too, so after a second to take a quick breath, and then a second, sharper one, he manages to nod his head, stroke Brandon's hair back off his face again. "Yeah. That's, that's good."

"Good," Brandon echoes, smiling up at him, and then he moves again; he'd been frozen the whole time, waiting for Nick to check back in with him.

Brandon nuzzles at his skin, drags his teeth over Nick's abs, feeling the muscles twitch under his mouth. He works his way back in and over to his bellybutton, sticks his tongue in it, which makes Nick snort with a moment of helpless laughter. It's somehow almost ticklish, and inherently ridiculous, and also—still stupidly hot, because he knows exactly what Brandon's trying to evoke there, and now he's thinking about that again, too. Fuck. About Brandon's tongue pressing into his body, firm and unyielding, wholly committed.

They haven't done that a whole lot, either, but they'd showered together before going out to get dinner, having learned from long experience that if they didn't leave the apartment for a meal they wouldn't wind up eating until it was too late to order much of anything but pizza, and definitely too late to want to eat before going to sleep.

Nick had, admittedly, spent more time thinking about what they'd be doing after dinner than he had about the food they were eating, so maybe in a way it had been wasted on him, but it had been nice to have a traditional date for a change, to get some time to just be together like any other couple. But if nothing else, it meant that they were both well aware of everything they'd done that afternoon before heading back to Nick's place and getting into bed, and if Nick's filthy now, it's only from his own sweat and come and nothing else. Well, maybe a little of Brandon's sweat and—other things, too. He might have been focusing on Nick so far but Nick can see that Brandon's just as hard now as he was when they'd started, that his hand is stealing back into his own lap every now and then for just a breath of pressure, something to take the edge off for himself so he could keep on sending Nick right up to and over that precipice.

Unaware of Nick's mental wandering, Brandon's still moving, slowly working his way back down again. Nick shudders and jerks a little as Brandon's chin bumps his dick again, as Brandon's hand slides back up his thigh and over to play with his balls some more, pushing his dick up against his stomach, still soft, but probably not for a whole lot longer.

He's panting by then, breath coming in short, sharp rhythms, whining a little from the back of his throat as Brandon mouths over his balls. He's craning his neck to watch, feeling the shivers of sensation running through him at the sight, Brandon touching him so confidently and intimately. 

It's somehow even hotter to be able to see it as well as feel it, to not be able to immediately change the subject, turn the attention back to Brandon right away. Nick's hooked up with a lot of people, and he's been to bed with more than one person who's maybe kind of outside his league in one way or another—learning not to worry about that had been something he'd gotten over in college, at least—but Brandon's maybe the first person Nick's been with who won't let him deflect. Who won't let him push the attention away when he's getting overwhelmed. At least, he's the only person like that Nick's been with more than once, that's for sure.

Nick's not sure whether that's something about Brandon in general or whether it's more specific to their relationship, but what he has learned is that Brandon is generous to a fault, likes to share, likes to treat people, whether it's making cookies for the neighbors or setting up passes for his teammates or, well.

Blowing Nick's mind with spectacular orgasms.

That's definitely something he's gifted at.

Not that he doesn't let Nick take care of him; Nick's gotten Brandon off just as much as Brandon has him, but there's something about the way Brandon is in bed, constantly settled into his own personal equilibrium, somewhere between control and recklessness. There's a sweetness to his kisses and a sharpness to his touch that feels all the more overwhelming simply because Nick can always feel the potential for it to go either way.

Brandon's touched him so gently that Nick had wound up almost sobbing with it, spun off into tangles of need and consuming desire that Brandon stoked and stoked and stoked, coaxing the most deeply buried embers of sensation through him, burning up from fingertips to toes. Brandon's also tied him to the headboard and fucked him within inches of weeping with overload, every nerve lit up and firing, taking him entirely out of his own head.

He startles again as Brandon licks up the underside of his dick, muscles twitching, and Nick has to fight to keep still, to keep himself from kicking out reflexively or from letting his thighs splay open further, welcoming Brandon in. It's a constant push-pull that's somehow enjoyable and invigorating, something he's never ever gotten tired of. If Nick was imagining this, playing through the fantasy to get himself off on a night by himself, he'd think that might get tiring after a while, but whatever Brandon can read in his eyes and his body language must be clear enough to translate easily, because it's never been that way with them. Just Brandon and Nick, communicating wordlessly, always pretty much on a level.

"God that's hot," Brandon murmurs, his breath soft and cool, shivery-good against Nick's spit-damp skin.

He makes a noise then, too; he's allowed to now, and Brandon looks up for a second to make eye contact, smiles open and easy and beautiful, and Nick smiles back, heart full.

"Seriously," Brandon says, appreciation clear in every syllable. "So fucking hot. God, _Nick_ ," and he shifts up just enough to swallow Nick down again.

Nick exhales like it's been punched out of him, everything collapsing inward to the pure point of sensation that is his dick bumping up against the roof of Brandon's mouth, the firm suction around it, the way Brandon's lips are warm and smooth as they slide over the shaft, as he sucks Nick all the way back to hard again.

It takes even less time for Nick to come a second time, rolling easily over that pleasure-pain intersection, his dick jerking in Brandon's mouth, and this time Brandon lets it slip out almost immediately, taking pity on Nick and how entirely overwhelmed he is. He feels even more sensitive then, like the air is too much pressure, and it takes a few seconds for him to even begin to gather his scattered wits.

Brandon looks nothing less than smug by the time he wriggles back up the mattress to lie beside Nick, close but not quite touching. Letting Nick decide when he can handle more. Smug's a look Nick hasn't seen on him too often, but it suits him, it's satisfying to see. Nick likes Brandon happy, and he likes when he can make Brandon happy even more.

"Gonna let me get you now?" Nick asks, feels like he's moving through molasses. Everything is slow and warm and easy, inevitable as gravity, his body rolling back towards Brandon's, reestablishing their connection.

"Mmmm," Brandon says, his lips buzzing, hardly moving. That's a yes and Nick knows it, knows it from the tone and his grin and the way Brandon melts into his touch, the sharply indrawn breath as Nick finally pushes his shorts down off his hips and the soft sigh as he echoes Brandon's earlier touches, tracing his fingertip around and around Brandon's dick. He's drawing uneven spirals on his skin, winding up along the length, pausing where the head flares out, gentling his touch even more then, teasing.

"Nick," Brandon breathes, his eyes fluttering closed as he sinks back into the mattress, and Nick's chest tightens, half-frozen by the intensity of his feelings, which swamp him unexpectedly from time to time, even now. Every time he thinks he's got it under control something else will happen, tiny wavelets eroding his grasp. Brandon makes him feel unsteady in the best possible way; like he's got foundations and roots a mile deep, anchored perfectly safe, but unpredictable enough to tilt him one way or another, always winding his way back to the same fundamental, bone-deep certainty.

"Love you," Nick murmurs, and he reaches up to kiss him, letting go of his dick long enough to wrap his arms around Brandon's neck, to crawl on top of him and weigh him down, Nick's body covering his entirely. It's good they're of a size, that no one ever has to worry about hurting each other that way. Brandon doesn't give up his control often, but he likes Nick's weight, relaxes like it's five shots of tequila hitting his bloodstream at the same time.

Nick's not pulling that comparison out of thin air; he's seen Brandon five shots deep, giggly and drunk and handsy, but there's something deeper about this, the pure trust and affection that linger in every touch and look. It's pretty much always good when they're together, although that might have more to do with how long it took them to actually act on the spark that had always been there. They're still making up for lost time, he thinks occasionally.

"Love _you_ ," Brandon says indistinctly, half into Nick's mouth, and he sighs again as Nick moves on top of him.

Brandon arches up underneath him as they keep kissing, his hips moving, trying to rub off on Nick. Nick's not opposed, not really; he likes getting Brandon off any way he can, and that's fun and easy. There's something so stupidly hot about feeling Brandon shudder against him, feeling his fingers bite into Nick's hips and sides while he comes hot and messy between them, but that's not quite what Nick's after today.

And if nothing else, Brandon spent so long working him over that what is normally pleasurable—rubbing off lazily against each other—is something closer to an exquisitely painful tease. Nick's still oversensitive, still twitching just a little every time the jut of Brandon's hipbone brings their bodies together enough to put pressure on his dick, and he really doesn't want to flinch away from Brandon, not when he's this close to coming himself.

"I got you," Nick says, and breaks the kiss at last. He kisses his way down Brandon's neck and over his collarbone, catches Brandon's nipple between his teeth and tugs gently, flicking his tongue over the tip.

Brandon just shivers again, moans appreciatively and grunts, "Shit, _fuck_."

Nick does it again, just to see Brandon's reaction, and he's well rewarded when Brandon reaches desperately for him and twines his fingers into Nick's hair, tugging sharply. Nick takes the hint and lets go, lifts up, and Brandon catches his eyes and says, shakily, "Do that again and I'm gonna come, I'm so close, please—"

Nick wants that, and he wants to watch Brandon come, watch him come completely undone, but he can't deny he likes drawing it out just as much as Brandon does when it's him on the other side of this. And…he really does want to _watch_.

Nick clears his throat, rolls off Brandon. Sits up properly, and runs a hand down the center of his chest. Brandon lets his eyes flutter closed again and moans, breathy.

"You look so good," Nick says softly, lets his hand dip below the level of Brandon's waist. "Fuck, so good, god. Can't believe I get to do this." He lets his palm rub slow circles over the dark hair arrowing down from Brandon's bellybutton towards his groin. "Gonna mess you up too, huh?"

Brandon groans again, his dick twitching noticeably, wet and red, flushed hot with blood.

"You're so lucky I'm more impatient than you are," Nick admits, and lets his hand drift a little further. Curls his fingers around Brandon's dick and tugs up, once, dragging his fingertips along his length.

Brandon makes another appreciative sound, his hips moving with Nick's hand, but then he opens his eyes again and gives Nick that crooked grin, pointing out, "I think that's a burn on you, really."

Nick shrugs—and more importantly, takes his hand away—and he watches Brandon bite his lip hard to swallow his instinctive response to that comment.

"I got off already," Nick points out, and Brandon mumbles, "Yeah, I was there," though Nick just keeps talking like he hadn't heard. Like it hadn't made him grin helplessly anyway. Even when he's trying to he can't really deny Brandon much of anything. "I could make you wait longer."

"Nick," Brandon says, whining a little. His eyes flickering from Nick's hands—clasped loosely in his lap—to his own lap, and back again. His heels rasp against the sheets as he shifts, bending and stretching out his leg, drawing his knee up as he squirms.

It helps that Nick knows Brandon doesn't really want him to wait; if that was what Brandon wanted then Nick could do it, but he's happy enough not to, happy to just keep teasing him until he's too close to hold back any more.

"Okay, yeah," Nick says, caving pretty quickly under the circumstances. He doesn't think anyone could blame him, though. Brandon is so ridiculously hot, so in tune with everything Nick wants and needs, it's too much to expect that Nick could do anything but melt, given all of that.

He gets his hands back on Brandon, anyhow, jerks him off slow and easy, panting in time with him as Brandon gets closer and closer to coming, as Nick bites the inside of his cheek as he concentrates, tries not to blush a little when he catches himself and realizes he's sticking his tongue out again as well. Brandon claims that it's hot, which Nick was skeptical about the first time or two he said it, but—

Brandon's pretty fucking easy for Nick, too.

Really easy, and really fucking pretty, actually, and Nick does his best to try and memorize every shift of his body, the way his head falls back into the pillow as he starts to come, eyes squeezed tight closed. He spills over Nick's hands, back arching as he shakes and shakes, breathing hard and loud until he catches himself, catches his breath and sags back into the mattress.

Nick wipes his hand off on the sheet, nudges at Brandon to get him to roll over, shuffling into place so that neither of them has to lay in the wet spot, draping an arm loosely over Brandon's side while he fits himself to the curve of his shoulder, his back, his ass. They fit together so well like that, too, Nick thinks, and kisses the back of Brandon's neck, making him shiver with the scratch of his beard against sensitive skin, letting his lips linger warm and damp.

"Good idea," Nick says eventually, once his own heart rate has calmed down a little. Once he can manage to put more than a single thought together at a time.

Brandon just smiles at him, soft and easy, deeply pleased. "Any time," he says, his own voice low and a little gravelly, and maybe Nick can get used to this, almost, but he's never, ever going to take it for granted.

[End]


End file.
